


i'm going to make whatever it takes

by ratherembarrassing



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherembarrassing/pseuds/ratherembarrassing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The windows in the boardroom don't open, and there's only one door, and Kara will fully admit at a later date that she panics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm going to make whatever it takes

**Author's Note:**

> kara under a desk, prompted by @sarah_dude and some anons. mushy feelings kind of overtook the intended smutbomb.

"It's going to be okay."

Kara's fingers thread through the hair at the base of Cat's neck, in the same place where Cat likes to pull Kara's own hair. "Shouldn't I be telling you that?"

"No," Cat says, "because I know we're perfectly fine, even if you're the one doing everything you can to calm me down as if I don't." Cat sways forward, leaving a perfect mark of lipstick against Kara's lips. "I promise."

Kara's not so sure, but she lets Cat kiss her again.

Cat had sent a board-wide email the night before, in typical Cat fashion, offering a laundry list of comments on a bunch of different things, before adding as an afterthought that, by the way, she is dating an employee and the board should consider this its due notice. Kara had watched over Cat's shoulder as the email whooshed away, fingers curled into the silk sheets pooled around Cat's hips.

It wasn't an afterthought. High ranking government and military officials knew Cat was going to send that email.

From Kara's side of the equation, everything has been discussed and reviewed and cleared and signed off and Alex has even stopped glaring at Cat whenever they're in the same room, because Cat has put up with a lot of crap from a lot of people in the last couple of weeks in the name of this relationship. And Cat doesn't usually put up with a whole lot of crap in the name of anything.

Now they just have to deal with Cat's side of things.

Starting with the Catco board.

(Technically they started with Carter, but he's not allowed to mention to _anyone_ , especially not to Alex, that he knew before anyone else did.)

Kara's spent the last twelve hours alternating between complete confidence that it will all be fine and absolute certainty that she's going to be fired, Cat's going to be whatever it is they do to people whose name is on the building, and that at any moment a hoard of paparazzi are going to descend upon them all.

"You know," Kara says, pulling back from Cat's mouth, "we could still always fly away to Iceland. Live in the middle of nowhere, nothing but each other and the reindeer to keep us company."

"Hmm." Cat makes a good show of giving it some thought. "That would be so…."

"Awesome?" Kara offers, resisting the urge to giggle.

"Boring," Cat finishes, and Kara kisses her for it, because there's the Cat she knows and loves.

Even thinking the word makes her heart stutter, and she pulls Cat closer. After spending so long waving off her feelings as chimeric daydreams, the revelation that Cat had sat on the other side of those glass walls and felt that same longing, the same helpless frustration that their lives had determined what they must be to each other, had broken her heart just in time for Cat to help her put it back together.

Cat's fingers curl into the back of Kara's shirt, bold and unrelenting where Kara is still cautious, cradling Cat's jaw so carefully as she loses herself in the feel of Cat's warm, demanding mouth against hers.

Maybe Iceland would be boring, but Kara would take boring as the price for—

"—Shit!"

She loves Cat. She loves Cat a lot. But Cat is really bad for her ability to keep them safe, because the way Cat kisses her, with the intensity and focus that you would expect from Cat Grant, is really freaking distracting.

And now there are a bunch of Catco board members outside the door, ready to walk in on them making out in the conference room where Cat is about to stand off against every last one of them.

The windows in the boardroom don't open, and there's only one door, and Kara will fully admit at a later date that she panics.

***

The table above her head reverberates with a dull thud.

The meeting, if you could call what's going on over Kara's head a meeting, has mostly consisted of certain board members calling Cat a lot of awful names, and none of the other board members doing much to come to her defence. In her hiding place beneath the conference table, Kara feels pretty damn useless, but as they circle back to accusing Cat of endangering Catco again, she's also starting to feel pretty peeved.

Kara sighs quietly, and adjusts her legs where they're tucked under her, keeping herself out of reach of various board members' shoes, and tries to ignore the shitty things being tossed at Cat overhead.

It's not a good idea for her to go charging in—up—there. Cat is handling it, and she just needs to stay put.

The carpet beneath her knees is soft, and she flattens the tops of her feet against the floor, the fibers brushing against her shins. It's easier to block out the sound of voices when she lets another sense become overwhelmed, and she concentrates on the tickle of the wool carpet, the press of her shirt cuffs around her wrists, the tag scratching at the base of her neck.

In her head, Kara hums a song she doesn't recognize. Only she does recognize it, from the memory of Cat, wrapped in a towel and hair dripping on her bare shoulders, humming it the previous night. A toothbrush had been in her mouth, and Kara had watched from her place on Cat's bed, curled up in the sheets she'd knelt upon while Cat had sent that email.

Cat doesn't verbalize her pleasure very often, compared to how often she voices her displeasure, but when she does it's in surprising ways.

"I assure you, Bradley," the tone of Cat's voice cuts through Kara's distracted thoughts. "There is very little I regret in life, least of all letting Kara into my bed."

Kara winces, but it's blunted by the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth and that flare of warmth in the pit of her stomach that Cat somehow manages to effortlessly stoke. Her hand reaches out without pausing to ask Kara's permission, as if it can't stand the thought of not being near the source of Kara's happiness a moment longer, and settles on Cat's ankle.

Cat doesn't pull away, doesn't startle in response to Kara's touch. Her voice doesn't waver, as she eviscerates Bradley in her low, lilting voice. She continues as if everything's just fine. To everyone else in the room, nothing has happened.

But Kara knows otherwise.

Beneath her fingertips, Cat's skin is the product of the pampering Cat subjects herself to on a daily basis. Kara loves Cat's skin, and the way it gives away so much of what Cat is feeling, even as her muscles strain beneath to hide it away.

Cat's pulse thrums against Kara's fingertips, echoing the rushed beat of her heart. Kara's spent years listening to the sound of Cat's heartbeat, and months letting its syncopation guide her towards making sure Cat is as pleased as she likes.

She counts to one hundred, and Cat doesn't move to shake her off.

Above her head, something makes sharp contact with the table— a book, maybe, or someone's hand— and Cat doesn't flinch.

"What you seem to have forgotten, Bradley, is that unlike the skeletons in your closet, mine isn't a skeleton at all. If I hadn't disclosed the relationship to the board, in complete compliance with the ethics code, you wouldn't have known anything about it."

Her fingers shift. Kara thinks she's going for a comforting stroke of affection at Cat's words, but instead of returning to Cat's ankle, or even pulling away, she drags her hand higher and higher, curling around the bend of Cat's knee.

Cat still doesn't move, but Kara can hear the reaction in her heartbeat, and when she sweeps her thumb against the inside of Cat's knee, back and forth from the top of Cat's calf to the very end of her thigh, Kara can smell it.

Cat's chair swivels, and her knees part. Beneath the table the light from the windows darts about, flecking and glinting, but Kara's eyes catch what no one else could see: between her legs, Cat is _wet_ , which Kara can see because Cat isn't wearing any underwear, and Kara's teeth sink painfully into her lip in an attempt to smother the noise she nearly makes.

She doesn't look away, though. Cat is pink and flushed, parted without having even been touched. Kara tilts her head to rest against Cat's knee, nuzzling into her skin helplessly.

She is helpless, isn't she? Cat wouldn't want her to— here? Now?

The way Cat's foot brushes up against Kara's thigh would suggest Cat very much does want her to, and she finds herself creeping closer, her free hand settling on Cat's other knee.

She turns her head to press a kiss against Cat's skin, and beneath it a muscle finally twitches.

Kara had watched Cat dress that morning; her skirt is printed with a geometric pattern that actually kind of hurts Kara's eyes, probably cost more than Kara's pay before tax, and is made of something very, very stretchy.

Cat's perched on the edge of her seat, and Kara slides her glasses up onto her head, blinking away the background as her eyes adjust. For some reason she checks to make sure no one is watching.

But it's just her under the table, and she edges her hands up Cat's legs, pushing the ugly, expensive skirt all the way to the top of Cat's thighs. Cat's legs part further, no longer bound up, and Kara doesn't stop to wonder how no one else at the table noticed the way she tilted her hips so Kara could come closer, she just hitches herself forward as close as she can get, until she can—

Oh, but she shouldn't. Because Cat is the definition of self control, but Kara really, really isn't. Not when she needs to be so quiet. She can't make herself when it comes to Cat. Kara's been reckless since the minute she met her, using her powers to win Cat over, saying to hell with it in a darkened office when she couldn't stand how little they saw each other anymore.

(She was finally, _finally_ settling into her new role, in her new office, with her new manager, and she hadn't seen Cat in eight days, and she couldn't stand it. Neither could Cat, it turned out, because she'd shown up in Kara's open doorway.

"Oh, so you do still work here," Cat had said, and that had been the end of not seeing each other every day.)

And Kara absolutely, positively cannot stop herself from leaning in and tasting Cat.

Cat's the queen of the cool facade, but Kara can feel the way she way she clenches, the way she floods Kara's mouth. Beneath Kara's hands, clutching at Cat's thighs, she is like steel, but beneath Kara's mouth she is liquid.

Overhead, someone raises their voice, and in the back of her mind Kara thinks it might have been Cat, which might have surprised Kara if she wasn't too busy drowning.

It was just supposed to be a taste, but Kara is lost, sweeping her tongue between Cat's folds over and over until Cat is open and ready and Kara can lick from the pool of wetness that's practically dripping onto the carpet, and she covers Cat with her mouth, as much as she can, taking as much of that arousal onto her tongue as possible, before dragging her lips in, in and in and in until they're closing around Cat's clit.

Around her, the legs under the table— the _other_ legs around the table, all move at once, a burst of sound and light flooding in around Kara, and she startles so badly she nearly falls back on her butt.

Wha— Oh. The conference room.

She's still panting a little when the room clears out, and Cat shoves her chair back from the table to glare at Kara kneeling in front of her. Did something happen? Is she fired? Is _Cat_ fired?

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Cat practically growls, the effect of what Kara has been doing to her suddenly, visibly, shuddering through her to leave her trembling and flushed, and oh, shit. Kara has read this wrong. She has read this so, so, so— "Get out from under there and finish what you started, Kara."

—right.

She scurries over to resume her place, catching the way Cat's face twitches into a momentary grin before Cat curls her fingers into Kara's hair, just at the base of her neck, and tugs her forward, pulling herself up against Kara's mouth as much as she's pulling Kara towards her.

It doesn't take long. Without anyone to hide from, Cat is trembling from fingertips to her toes, and she wraps her leg around Kara's shoulder, as if Kara might try to get away.

As if Kara would ever try to get away.

"I told you it would be fine," Cat says, strained and arching into Kara's mouth. "I _told you_ —"

Sometimes she thinks about the events in her life, and in Cat's life, and the life they've shared since the first time Kara heard the name Cat Grant. She's not convinced it was destiny, but it was more luck than one person could possibly ask for. And lucky is exactly how she feels, curled up between Cat's legs in an otherwise empty board room, and she sucks in a breath before doing that thing Cat likes, and Cat comes undone against her, letting herself be consumed by it as Kara carries her through.

It's good that they're going to be fine. It's great. Because all she wants is to be for Cat what Cat has been for her, to be a light on something joyful in her life.

And yeah, that includes really good orgasms.

But even if they weren't going to be fine, she gets to do this. She gets to rest her cheek against Cat's leg as she catches her breath, as Cat touches her face while she comes back to herself. Fine is such a relative term. And this is more than fine.

"You're such a sap."

"I didn't even say anything," Kara says. She presses a kiss to Cat's skin before she sits up.

"Please," Cat sighs, attempting to pull herself together. "I can practically hear the mushy thoughts going round in your head."

Kara unbends from her crouch, offering Cat her hand once she's on her feet. "You love my mushy thoughts."

Cat's hitching her skirt back down, but she stops when Kara starts to fuss with her own clothing and catches her hands to stop her. "I do," she says, and Kara can't even blink at the way Cat's looking at her.

"Well, that's—" _They're going to be fine_ , she thinks, looking right back. "I've got a lot of mushy thoughts."

"Good," Cat says.

"Yeah." Kara nods. "Good."


End file.
